


The Waiting Drove Me Mad (You're Finally Here And I'm A Mess)

by lisachan



Series: Leoverse [55]
Category: Glee
Genre: Cheating, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 20:52:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17815325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisachan/pseuds/lisachan
Summary: Right after Leo's very messy sex dice-centered birthday party, seeing him in quite a drunken state, Matt offers to share an uber with Cody to make sure he gets to his hotel safely. These are the consequences of it.





	The Waiting Drove Me Mad (You're Finally Here And I'm A Mess)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A long awaited roll of dice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17799803) by [Tabata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabata/pseuds/Tabata). 



> **WARNING:** This story is a spin-off sequel for Broken Heart Syndrome. This means that, despite not being properly set after BHS (but that's only because BHS is probably never going to have a proper ending and we'll keep talking about these people forever), it depicts things happening way late in the 'verse, and that may be on varying degrees of spoiler.  
> It is also slightly what-if-fy, if we have to be completely honest about it, but we won't waste time with technicalities, here. It might as well have happened.  
> Direct sequel of Tabata's _A long awaited roll of dice_ , so you might want to read that one before you proceed here.  
> Matt's dick is our Lord and Saviour.  
> Bye.
> 
> (Written for [The Clash of the Writing Titans #9](https://www.landedifandom.net/tag/cow-t-9/), [Week 1](https://www.landedifandom.net/cowt9-week1/), Mission 3, prompt: body worship.)

“Where ya stayin’?”

The mist in Cody’s mind is so thick, and he’s so deeply lost in it, wandering through a forest made of intangible trees that chase him deeper in it, like a darker version of the already dark Snow White fairy tale, that at first he doesn’t even hear Matthew’s voice. Which is saying something in itself, considering that that voice, since first he heard it, has held some sort of magnetic fascination over him, and many times, during Leo’s birthday party, he’s found himself listening to it absentmindedly like he would listen to music while drawing. He wouldn’t know why – must have something to do with the sound of it, how he drags the words, his accent, or simply how his voice vibrates in the air around him, how it makes it resonate as though Matt put all of himself in every single word he’s speaking.

“Ya gotta be hella drunk,” Matt chuckles, barely touching him on his shoulder to catch his attention, “Ya listenin’ to me, cupcake?”

The nickname’s what really brings him back to earthly ground. It sounds weird – to already have a nickname for a man he didn’t even knew six hours ago. He wonders if there’s a reason behind the fact that all the men in his life feel like they _should_ call him something else but his name. From Leo’s _sweetness_ to Blaine’s _pet_ , from Adam’s _doll_ to Matthew’s _cupcake_ , the only man who ever calls him by his name is Vince. His husband.

He supposes that makes sense, but his feelings, tonight, are muddy and confused, and he keeps thinking nicknames are much sweeter than just a name, and somehow even truer to himself. What is just _Cody_ , after all? What does this simple name say about him? There are millions of people called just like that in the world, that name doesn’t make them special. A nickname, though, no matter how simple, makes you special in the heart of someone else. That means being worth something.

Truth is, this night tragically fucked him up. He usually doesn’t swear, but Leo taught him to be honest with himself, at the very least with himself, and being honest, tonight, means to curse. He’s fucked up in the head. And he knows why.

“Sorry...” he says, embarrassed, finally turning to look at him. The backseat of the car is dark but as he turned he could see a glimpse of the puzzled look the driver threw at them from the rear-view mirror. He tries to get back in control of himself, despite his drunken haze, just for Matthew’s sake. He doesn’t want him to make him look bad just because he can’t hold his liquor – or to be handled and touched and kissed the way he’s been handled and touched and kissed the whole night. “I’m at the Courtyard,” he says, “Is that okay?”

“Sure, I know where it is,” the driver just nods as he starts the engine, leading them away from Leo’s home. Cody hopes just putting some space between himself and him would make him feel better. A deep part of him already knows that’s wishful thinking, but a boy can dream.

Matt whistles as he gets comfortable on the seat. “Nice place,” he comments, “Ya treat yo’self well, cupcake, dontcha?”

“Leo booked it for me,” Cody blushes vividly, looking down.

“Ah, so _he_ treats ya well,” Matt grins, “Had no doubts ‘bout it.”

“Where are you staying?” Cody asks to lead the conversation away from Leo.

“Motel 6,” Matt answers. When Cody lifts a pretty transparent in its disgust pair of eyes on him, he starts laughing, amused. “Fuck, cupcake, ya sure don’t lie.”

Cody looks down immediately, crouching his shoulders and trying to hide between them. He’s much too drunk to put any sort of filter between his thoughts and his body expressing them. “I’m sorry...” he says in a low voice, “I’m usually much less rude.”

“Rude?” Matt raises an eyebrow. It’s so long and thick. Cody finds himself mesmerized by it, by its curve line forming an arch over Matthew’s dark eyes. He finds himself swallowing and disliking the taste of alcohol still so strong on his tongue. “Ya couldn’t be rude if ya wanted to, cupcake.”

“Why...” he can’t stop himself from asking, “Why do you call me like that?”

Matthew keeps quiet for a second, looking at him through the darkness, only temporarily and intermittently interrupted by the lights of the streetlamps pouring in, like sudden cascades of gold, every time the car passes by one of them. “Ya couldn’t be rude if ya wanted to, but ya can sure be blunt, cantcha?” he finally says with half a smile.

Cody blushes again. The rush of blood suddenly coming to his face makes him feel hot and messes up his thoughts even more. Is he being a bad boy, right now? Should he just stop talking?

“You don’t have to answer...” he offers.

Matt laughs, shaking his head. “Nah, not a problem. I think I call ya that coz I think ya’d be a nice snack.” He stops for a second, leaving the words hanging in the hair, and for the entire duration of that silence, Cody’s heart stops beating. It seems like an eternity. “See? I can be blunt too.”

“No,” Cody shakes his head right away, fast, “No, you...” he forgets what he was about to say as a sudden wave of nausea climbs out of his stomach and up his throat. “Ugh,” he stops moving right away and holds onto one of Matthew’s arms as he brings a hand to his mouth.

“Hey, hey,” Matthew leans in on him, putting a hand on his back and rubbing it slowly, “Don’t move so fast. Shit, ya’ve got more liquor than blood in ya veins,” he adds with a short chuckles, “Don’t test yo’ limits, ya gonna end up throwing up.”

“I hate to throw up,” Cody answers in a whiny voice.

“Dunno a single person who luvs it, cupcake,” Matthew chuckles again, and Cody blushes. He can feel the mocking undertone in his voice – he wishes he could find it unpleasant, that he could be offended by it. At least, then he wouldn’t have to worry about how nice Matt’s ridiculously big hand feels, so warm and careful against his back.

He isn’t usually this receptive when it comes to sex. Sure, back when they were in college Leo made sure he was well taught in the art of listening to his own body, to its needs, urges and desires, and he also made sure he knew how to recognize desire in the eyes of someone else, and that he knew how to respond to it when he wanted to. But he’s usually not to easily triggered – a touch, a brush of the hand, a pair of eyes glistening in a slightly more intense way, are usually not enough to turn him on.

As a matter of fact, if he has to be completely honest with himself, it’s not Matt turning him on right now. Sure, there are many things he likes about him. With the odd exception of William, he’s always felt drawn towards dark-haired boys, he always liked them tall and he sure is ridiculously attracted by those who have confidence in themselves, those who know how to use their bodies – not just in sexual situations but much more in general, those who move as though they knew for sure they had a place in the world, and lived to occupy it. And Matt’s surely all of these things, but he was aroused way before the few touches they exchanged in this car.

The way Leo chose to celebrate his birthday – and the way Blaine allowed him to, that’s what caused all this. Seeing Leo and Blaine kiss all those people, being kissed himself, feeling Adam’s hungry lips on his own, feeling Blaine’s hands on his chest, barely brushing his nipples, and that tiny kiss he left at the corner of his mouth, and more importantly, what Leo did with him during those seven minutes in that closet, how he rubbed against him, how he kissed like he couldn’t breathe if not from his mouth, how he thrust against him, hard enough to make him bounce with every movement, how he made him come by simply moving on him, and how fulfilling and at the same time frustrating that felt, that’s what caused all this. And that’s why he shivers at the touch of Matt’s hand. It’s not Matthew’s fault. It’s that he’s on, now, and there’s no turning off until his body will have what it truly wants.

Which is to be fucked. Hard and long enough to make him sore. 

(Yes, he sure knows how to be blunt. Especially with himself, when no one can hear him.)

He’s vaguely thinking about calling Vince, once he’s alone in his hotel room, and jerk off to the sound of his voice. He wonders what he’s doing right now. It shouldn’t be that late in Florence. He’s probably still working, out on the fields with his men. Three, four young ones, a couple his age. Bulky, big and shirtless. Covered in sweat from the harvest, shirtless, glistening in the setting sun. He closes his eyes and thinks about those men, faceless men, and Vince, coming closer, surrounding him. Pinning him down on the ground, his face against the dry, yellow grass, his ass up in the air. He pictures them strip him of his pants and underpants and fuck him, one after the other, again and again, until he doesn’t know how to tell them apart any longer.

He whimpers weakly, squeezing his eyes closed and his thighs together. He’s hard – he wonders if Matt can see it through his flimsy leggings.

“Hey,” Matt comes closer again. He smells nice – Cody seems to notice it for the first time right now. Sandalwood and spices. “Ya feelin’ fine, cupcake?”

“Uh…?” Cody lifts a pair of confused, watery eyes on him. He’s handsome – he doesn’t know if it’s arousal speaking or something else, but he can’t look away, now. The angles of his face, the cut of his eyes, the shape of his lips, the line of his neck, how it dives underneath the rounded collar of his t-shirt. Cody wants to follow that line with the tip of his tongue, draw a wet line on his skin, feel his Adam’s apple dive in and then up again underneath his lips.

He shouldn’t. He’s a married man. And if there’s one person, one single person he would cheat on Vince with, that’s not the one sitting next to him right now.

And yet.

He swallows, unable to answer to Matthew’s question. Is he feeling fine? Shit, he’s feeling great. But is that okay? No, that definitely isn’t.

Matthew’s eyes darken up all of a sudden. Cody feels exposed under their weight, it’s like they can see past his clothes, past his skin and muscles and bones. They can see his core, and they know it’s throbbing, right now, aching for something he daren’t ask for.

“Okay,” he just says, “Ya don’t have to speak.”

Cody swallows again, nodding his head slowly. He has no idea what just happened right now, how could Matt read him so easily after spending with him but a few hours. But it happened, anyway. Cody can’t make it unhappen.

“We’re here,” the driver says, stopping the car right in front of the Courtyard Hotel’s entrance, “To the Motel 6, now?”

“No,” Matt’s voice sounds final, heavy, in the now perfectly still silence of the night, “I’m stoppin’ here too. Thank ya, bro. Nice ride.”

“Sure,” the driver says, purposely refusing to look at them as he offers them the payment terminal from the front seat. Matthew holds his card in front of it and waits for the beeping sound announcing the payment has been made, and then helps Cody out the car, coming out right before him and holding him up through the whole thing.

They wait for the car to disappear down the road, standing one next to the other, awkwardly. Despite this being the first day of spring, the air is still pretty chilly in the night, and it rained most of the day, though it isn’t now, so Cody hugs himself in a shivering hug, having exactly no idea what to do with himself.

“Sorry,” Matt puts an arm around his shoulders, drawing him closer, “C’mon.”

He guides him past the glass doors of the hotel and through the empty hall. There’s a girl at the reception desk, tidy and pretty in her uniform, but it’s almost three in the morning and she’s sleepy. She nods and greets them politely, but she asks no questions when she sees Matt silently asking for Cody’s room keys by offering his hand to him, palm up, and Cody delivering the keys to him after rummaging in the pockets of his jackets for a minute or so.

They wait for the elevator. Then get inside when its metal doors open for them, accompanied by a nice ringing sound. There’s carpet on the floor and a nice yellow dim light good to help their eyes rest, and Cody’s heart is beating furiously. Should he ask what’s happening? Should he already know?

Matthew takes it upon himself to deliver him at least to his room. He checks the number on the magnetic key, checks the tags hanged on every door, finds the way for the right one. When he finds it, he slides the key card through the lock and the door opens for them – and he opens it for Cody, and turns the lights on.

He gently pushes him inside, a hand on the small of his back, the other keeping the door open so it doesn’t slam on his face. Then he remains on the doorstep and looks at him. Cody turns to reciprocate his look and ends up staring at him, his heart in his throat, blocking the way for any kind of word he might possibly want to say.

“Tell me what to do,” Matt says in a low, dark voice.

Cody swallows his heart back into his chest. “Do you want to come in?” he asks uncertainly.

Matt stares at him, long and hard. “Tell me what to do,” he repeats.

Cody tightens the hold of his fingers around the door handle. “Come in,” he says.

Matthew nods, and comes in.

Cody turns around and moves away to allow him to step past the door. He prefers not to look at him. He’s sure to be as red as a strawberry, right now, the temperature of his cheeks is a pretty straightforward indication of it. His heart’s beating faster than it ever did. What should he do? How do cheating husbands act with people blatantly asking them to allow them permission to walk into their hotel rooms with one single and clear idea about how the night’s going to proceed?

He has no idea. He’s never cheated on Vince. He’s never cheated on anyone. And Matt confuses him. Damn, everything would confuse him, right now. But Matt is particularly confusing.

He moves a few steps towards the bed and he notices only after a few seconds that Matt’s not doing the same. Everything is silent, behind him. Perhaps he just dreamed about letting him in? Maybe he slammed the door on his face, instead, and now Matt’s standing behind it, in the hallway, asking himself if he should knock or ring to be let in?

Cody turns around to check on the situation, at some point fully expecting not to find him there, but there Matt is, standing tall and still right before the door. Staring at him with such dark eyes it’s impossible to distinguish anything at the bottom of it, not even the vaguest thought.

“Did I… make a mistake or something…?” he asks timidly.

Matthew shakes his head. In the movement, his hair, wavy and messy, shake a little too. Cody follows them as though hypnotized. He looks so good. There’s no amount of guilt trips that could get him to stop wanting him, tonight. Because it’s not simply _him_ that he wants, it’s what comes with him. The promise of full release. The dream of being touched by hands so big that can cover his crotch entirely with one single touch, that can cup his buttocks fully and squeeze them hard enough to make him whimper.

It could probably be anyone else. It’s him, though, and Cody’s happy about it.

“Listen,” Matt says, “I ain’t about messy things one does just for the sake of it and ends up regrettin’ in the mornin’. We fuck tonight, that’s between us and ya can tell whoever ya want, but whatcha can’t do is feel bad ‘bout it comes tomorrow.” He moves slowly towards him. He looks like some sort of enormous wild feline predator, a panther, a black lion of some sort. The way he moves is mesmerizing. “Ya like me, I know,” he says. Cody appreciates him not asking about it, but simply saying it, matter-of-factly, “And ya might’ve noticed I kinda dig ya too. Now I gotcha here cuz I didn’t wantcha passin’ out on the hallway all alone, but ya seem fine now, and I’m horny as hell. Just lookin’ atcha.” He lifts one of his hands and brings it to Cody’s face. It’s so big it could cup it just like that, but he strokes his lips with his thumb and then lets his fingers slide down his neck, feeling his heartbeat on his pulse point, right at the bottom of his throat. “I gotcha here cuz I was worried ‘bout ya, but I came in cuz I wanted to fuck ya. D’ya want me to?”

There are many ways Cody could answer his question. If he weren’t as horny, possessed by the idea of sex itself, as he is now, he should answer the fair way. I do, but I can’t let you do it, because I’m married and I love my husband and also another man I could never have and that’s not you, so fucking wouldn’t be right, wouldn’t be fair, and we shouldn’t do it.

But he is horny. Possessed by the idea of sex itself. And therefore he could simply answer “yes”, but it wouldn’t be enough. His body’s demanding him to be let in on that answer, to give its full participation. So he throws his arms around Matt’s neck, covering his lips with his own. He kisses him like he’d drink water in an oasis in the desert, he kisses him to leave him breathless, he kisses him to make sure he knows beyond any possible doubt that yes, he wants to be taken, and yes, he wants to be fucked, and he wants it now.

Matt closes his hands around his hips, squeezes them hard enough to hurt for a second, and then lifts him up as easily as he’d lift up a leaf. Cody’s body follows the hint and he parts his legs, wrapping them around his hips, holding onto him and rubbing against him desperately as Matthew covers the distance separating them from the bed. 

The lights are on and Cody doesn’t care, which says a lot about the state he’s in. Matt’s lips are hard, demanding, invasive, his mouth is big and Cody feels like it’s eating him alive with every single kiss, but he likes it – he likes the intimacy of it, the wild violence of it. Matt’s lips brush against his own, make them oversensitive, prepare them for the bites his teeth deliver just a few seconds later. Cody whimpers and back away, panting heavily, and just when Matt – he can _feel_ it – is about to ask if he changed his mind, Cody starts pulling at his t-shirt, trying to strip him.

“Ah,” Matt says in half a chuckle, “’Kay, then.”

He lifts his arms and bows just a little, allowing Cody to tear the t-shirt off him, and then receives his kiss on his chest with nonchalant ease, a hand on Cody’s nape, playing with the ends of his hair, rubbing the sensitive skin on his neck. Cody licks and kiss everywhere he can, his collarbone, his chest, his nipples. Matt moans in a low, almost growling voice, and Cody feels so fired up about prompting such a sound out of him ha dares wandering further southward, attacking the button keeping his pants closed.

Matt straightens himself up, standing on his knees, keeping his hands away to let Cody work on his zipper freely. Cody feels something shift in him – some sort of new tension taking him over, at some point, but since he can’t explain it he decides to ignore it.

He understands what it was about, though, when he frees Matthew’s erection from his prison of clothing.

It is enormous. Cody doesn’t think he ever saw a dick this big in his entire life. It’s not simply its length, it’s its girth, how thick it is, and how hard it stands, pointed threateningly towards him, like a spear.

It’s massive. Unfathomable. And the mere sight of it makes his mouth water.

“Ya still with me?” Matt asks. The usual confidence in his voice is still there, mostly, but it feels like it has stepped aside to make some room for a pinch of insecurity.

Cody nods, his throat suddenly dry. Matt’s cock is scary, but he wants it so much his insides almost hurt, twitching in anticipation. Butterflies tornado in his stomach, not knowing they’re probably soon going to be chased away by the biggest cock his body has ever welcomed inside.

“How...” Cody swallows hard, “How do you usually…?”

“I don’t,” Matt answers, shaking his head, “Could count the people I’ve fucked properly my whole life on two hands. I usually just mess ‘round.”

“I don’t wanna mess around,” Cody shakes his head, resolutely, “I want it inside.” And then he repeats it, with more confidence, as though realizing for the first time himself how strength his wanting is, “I want it inside of me.”

“Might not fit,” Matt says honestly, stroking his cheek, “Usually doesn’t.”

“Still wanna try,” Cody insists. He can feel Matt’s not expecting it to work. He decides to take it upon himself, like some sort of holy mission, a proper crusade, to show him he’s wrong.

He bends over and lies down on the bed, settling between his thighs. His cock stands out against the tan background of his flat stomach, and Cody reaches out for it reverently, holding it between his hands – which he wraps around it pretending they can barely do so, just to rile Matt up even more – and finally pressing his lips against its head in a soft, half-wet kiss that makes Matt moan.

“Ya don’t have to blow me, cupcake,” he says, but he’s breathing heavily and his dark eyes scream _just do it_.

“I want to,” Cody simply answers, parting his lips and swallowing it in.

It’s so big his mouth has to stretch to welcome it all. He flattens his tongue against the bottom of it to make room and it still doesn’t feel like it’s enough to keep him all contained inside, so he relaxes the muscles of his throat, closes his eyes and hopes for the best as he lets Matt’s cock slide further inside.

Matthew moans louder and calls him by his name, and he finds himself enjoying the feeling of the head of his cock hitting against the back of his throat much more than he had anticipated. No gag reflex – seems like he finally found something he’s truly talented for –, no nausea, no suffocating. Just a sense of fullness and his imagination running wild, already picturing what it will be like to hold him inside when they finally get to fuck.

He opens his eyes to look up and finds the face of a man he hasn’t met yet and is meeting now for the first time. Hunger has taken possession of Matt, the kind, caring man who was there before has now disappeared, he’s been devoured by this new Matt, a beast made out of wanting and nothing more, a beast that’s staring at him as though it could skin him alive just to get inside of him, tie himself to his flesh and bones.

He thrusts a couple of times inside his mouth. Cody takes it without a single whimper if not of pure pleasure. Matt growls and the next thing Cody knows is he’s lying with his back on the bed, legs spread open and pushed up, and Matt’s settling between them, letting him put them on his shoulders to expose him.

He’s fucked like this a few times, with men who didn’t have half the firepower Matt has, and even with them it felt heavenly. The position allows him to feel everything much more intensely, and he can’t wait to feel him inside – just the thought of that enormous cock tearing its way through him makes him wiggle impatiently, unable to stay still.

“Do it,” he murmurs confusedly, rubbing his ass against Matt’s wet erection, “Do it, do it, do it!”

Matthew just nods. At this point, he doesn’t ask whether he can or can’t, it’d be pointless. Cody wants it, and if Matt backed away right now, scared he’d hurt him or just that it wouldn’t work, Cody would probably chase him and impale himself on him without even ask for his opinion first.

He wants this. He wants it with the blind, careless desperation of a drug addict in withdrawal. He’s been rubbed, kissed and teased the whole night, now he wants what he’s owed. And life owes him this cock. For all he went through – for pushing him in the hands of a psycho, for allowing him to find true love only to take it away from him, from forcing him to run as far as the other side of the Atlantic ocean to escape nostalgia and for finally delivering him back to Leo only when Leo couldn’t make him his anymore, life owes him _at least_ to be torn apart by Matt’s cock.

He screams, throwing his head back when Matthew finally penetrates him, sheathing himself in his body. Matt prepares him, he’s careful and considerate, but there’s no amount of preparation, care and consideration that can truly ready someone to experience something like this. He feels him pass through his opening like a log on fire, it’s cumbersome, painful and magnificent. He swings his hips restlessly, both aching for more and trying to fight his first instinct, which is to push him out.

“Jesus,” he gasps breathlessly, scratching his shoulders with his nails, “It hurts.”

“D’ya want me to stop, cupcake?” his voice controlled, steady, hypnotic, Matt asks as though he could really be able to back off if he said the word. Cody doesn’t believe him, or better, he thinks Matt would do it, he would stop, but he’d be desperate and would do it unwillingly. He appreciates him, though, for offering.

“Don’t you dare,” he whimpers, pulling him down to whisper in his ear, “Destroy me.”

Matthew tightens his hold against his hips, keeping him still as he starts moving. He’s impossibly big, impossibly hard, and Cody loves every single second of it – he can _feel_ every single inch of his cock as it rides through the tight ring of his opening, stretching it almost to the point of tearing it apart.

On the thin rope firmly suspended between pain and pleasure, tied to opposite mountains of equal mass, Cody walks blindly, uncertainly at first, then he starts running, chasing his orgasm, and when he reaches the other side and pleasure explodes inside him, pushed out of him by the havoc-wreaking presence of Matt’s cock, he collapses with a scream, completely spent, pleasure tingling inside him, numbing him to the point of making him unable to feel any pain, or anything else, for that matter. Matt comes inside him and he barely feels any wetness – he hears the sound of his come squirting out of him, though, pressed at the edges of his opening by his massive shaft. It’s a lewd, obscene sound that grants him one last, extenuating shiver, before he falls on his back, lying motionless against the pillows.

They’re both breathing to heavily they cannot even talk for minutes. Matt moves carefully out of him, wipes him clean and does the same to himself using the top sheet, which he then discards thoughtlessly, before lying down next to him, close enough to let him feel his warmth.

“Closer...” Cody whispers, turning himself into a little ball against his chest, “Come closer.”

A little surprised by his request, Matt opens his eyes and welcomes him against himself, closing his arms around him and passing his fingers through his silky straight hair. “Ya okay?” he asks tentatively.

Cody nods, a dreamy though weary smile stretching his lips. “More than okay,” he mewls with obvious satisfaction dripping in his voice, “I feel great.”

Matthew chuckles, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead. “I thought ya’d be upset.”

“You told me not to regret it,” Cody shrugs, curling closer to him, “And I won’t.”

“Not even if I mention Leo?”

Cody can’t help but laugh a little, shaking his head. “Believe me,” he answers, “I’ve got so many things to regret about Leo that this probably just barely makes the final cut.” Then he sighs, finally daring to look up at him. “And you? Won’t you regret it? He is one of your best friends, after all.”

“The one an’ only, actually,” Matt chuckles, “Moirails an’ all.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what that means,” Cody shakes his head, and Matt laughs again.

“Don’t matter,” he says, “Point is, he prolly gonna be real angry at me, if and when he gets to know this. But no, I won’t regret it.” He smiles a little wider, curling his fingers through his locks and pulling at them gently, to make him tilt his head back to receive a kiss on his lips. “This was the best fuck I’ve had in a while.”

Cody smirks playfully, putting on a mischievous kid mask that he himself already feels embarrassed about. “Just in a while?” he asks, “Not your whole life?”

Matthew laughs, throwing his head back and exposing his neck. Cody takes the chance to follow the line of his throat with the tip of his tongue, just because he’s been wanting to for what it feels like hours. “Ya’r a real number, cupcake,” he says, right before overturning their position and settling between his legs again.

Cody lets him kiss him and, when he sees him travel down his body, that long, thick tongue of him ready to taste a new part of him, he doesn’t even think about stopping him. There will be time, later on or tomorrow, to feel guilty (but never regret this). To reconsider his actions and probably feel sorry. To decide if it’s going to be the case to come clean about it with Leo and maybe even Vince.

Right now, he just feels very, very sore down there. And he badly needs to be kissed alright.


End file.
